Warbled the Whitney woman in 1988, before she met her husband and entered the twilight world of illicit substances, which caused her no doubt to run the full gamut of emotions, as her career slowly faded and sank, lost forever beneath the layers of history, just waiting to be rediscovered by Tony Robinson and Time Team.
However at least old Houston had an obvious tangible raison d'etre for her diva-like rants and raves, unlike yours truly, who regularly finds himself walking a tightrope over the abyss of Emotional Flux. Which of course is frightfully un-British and plays havoc with my normally stiff upper lip.
The reason for this apparent change in my sense of stately decorum can be explained though the words of the Transplant Team in their “handy” booklet on the whole process and the after care recovery. In fact I found it so handy that I have only just read it cover to cover, more than three months after the op!
“Transplantation is a tense time for both patient and family...Even people who have had no complication following a transplant need to adjust to changes in their schedule, health and daily activities. Sometimes after things return to normal people often feel emotional for a period of time”
But wait, there's more...
“The medications that are given after a transplant can intensify your moods and also cause abrupt mood swings. It is not uncommon to feel elated one day then irritable and depressed the next. This is quite normal. These symptons should pass eventually, but if you have persistent feelings of sadness, hopelessness and depression talk to your renal team.”
Flippin' Fantastic, I feel so happy! So joyous, full of vim and vigour, deliriously ecstatic!!!!,
No wait, Oh my goodness, this is pointless and meaningless, my life is a depressing sham, just like the Kardashians... (though my posterior is noticeably smaller).
Feeling like a demonically possessed playground (full of evil swings), I previously mused on my bursting into tears during the Masterchef Australia final, shedding a tear over the recent Happy Feet saga, fuming after a unjust NZ Herald article about poodles, and raging after I couldn't get a parking space at the Mall. Somewhat more perversely I raged and boiled during a recent speech by NZ First leader Winston Peters. (Actually I think that was quite understandable, I am not alone on this one).
My oscillating temperament was beginning to cause me seriously to wonder whether I was developing a bipolar personality, akin to Jekyll and Hyde, or even Rodney Hide. On some days I was as elated as the Greek Government (how to write off trillions of Euros...) and other days I became so angry I felt like protesting in the streets....
Now thanks to the transplant information manual I am now aware of the random aspect of these swings. Although the diverse nature of the reactions and their causes continues to amaze me, ultimately and reassuringly, just like Whitney, my emotional sweeps can be traced back to a a rational and explainable situation and not on a developing split in my personality. Therefore like Whitney I can get so emotional, and also like her, my temporal changes can be traced back to a cocktail of medications.
Bear with me, as normal service will no doubt be resumed shortly.
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